


Clean

by cloudyworld



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 17:57:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2318255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudyworld/pseuds/cloudyworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke and Fenris get dirty and gross running errands for Anders. So Hawke convinces Fenris to clean up in his bath at the estate. </p>
<p>If you ask Hawke, it's the best bath Ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

As soon as they return to the estate, Hawke immediately drags Fenris to the bath, drawing water while the elf stood behind him uneasily, not feeling up to undressing right away.

"You smell horrible," Hawke laughs as he fills the tub. Fenris frowns. 

"You don't smell any better." They had both been in the sewers fetching ingredients for the apostate's stupid task, digging around in dirt and mud and a great many other things that Fenris doesn't even want to remember. 

"I know, but it didn't get thrown on me when those crazy thugs came running out after us, did it?" Hawke glanced over his shoulder, a cheeky grin on his face. Fenris examines his gauntlets; they had gotten most of it off by dousing him in the closest (and cleanest) water they could find, but it was not enough. He'd require a serious sort of soap for this. 

Reminded that he had, in fact, been literally covered in the most vile items he could imagine, he began to rip off his armor and clothes, prior hesitance gone. 

"If I never get this out, I'm blaming the mage," he grumbles, tossing the clothes in a heap. 

"Fair enough," Hawke eyes the dirty clothes on the ground, but doesn't turn to look at his now naked companion quite yet. "I'm sure we have something that could get it out; Maker knows Sandal likes to get into trouble and he smells as fresh as cut flowers." Standing, Hawke retrieves a couple towels from outside the room, returning to find Fenris already almost neck-deep in the tub, sighing pleasantly as he stretches out. 

"How am I supposed to fit if you're laying in there like that?" Hawke's smile is impossibly wide when Fenris opens one eye to glare at him. 

"Please tell me you aren't serious." 

"I thought maybe you could sit on my lap while I wash your back! Doesn't that sound romantic?" 

Fenris' glare deepens. There's no way they'd both fit; Hawke is much larger than he is, and he barely fits in here to begin with. He's not even going to mention the romantic bit. Hawke seems to understand the look and laughs to himself. 

"At least let me sit out here and wash your hair, then. I've been dying to do it." 

"I'm not a child," Fenris huffs, but relents, sitting up as Hawke kneels beside the tub. "I don't need you to do things for me."

"I know," Hawke responds, undeterred. "But I _want_ to. I want to run my hands through your hair every chance I get." He lathers the bar of soap in his hands, reaching his arms over the edge of the tub to run them though Fenris' already wet, messy mop. Fenris allows it, looking away. He knows Hawke can see his ears turning a faint pink, and wills himself not to be embarrassed by all this, but fails sort of miserably when he feels Hawke's warm fingers scratching at his scalp, feeling his whole body relax into the water. He chooses to ignore that little chuckle of Hawke's, too. 

Fenris isn't sure how long Hawke does this before he feels Hawke tipping his head back into the water, combing his fingers through again to get all the soap out. 

"You're sure you didn't miss your true calling in life?" he murmurs, Hawke's warm laugh above him making him quirk his lips in a tiny smirk. 

"You'd think I did! Perhaps I can do this on the side to make some extra coin, when the Champion thing stops working for me. Will you let me practice hair cutting on you, then?" 

Fenris makes a non-commital noise at first, sitting up again to squeeze the water out of his hair. "If that's what you wish." 

"By that you mean you won't be angry if I shave all of your hair off, will you?" 

"As long as you like it," he replies, grabbing the bar of soap to rub between his hands, beginning to wash his shoulders and chest. He continues for a few moments longer before he realizes Hawke hasn't said anything, and glances over to find the man's head pillowed in his hands on the edge of the tub, gazing back at him like he's the one who saved Kirkwall and the Free Marches. That look makes him shiver; he'll never quite be comfortable with how absolutely in love Hawke is with him. 

"You're worth more to me than any amount of gemstones or sovereigns I could ever be offered. More beautiful, too." 

Fenris rolls his eyes, but blushes all the same. Hawke could say the sappiest, most ridiculous drivel (which he often does) and still make it sound like the chant itself. "Is that from one of Varric's new titles? Because if it is, you should stop reading them." Even as he berates the statement, he's smiling. 

"Are you saying my devotion to you is nothing more than cheap, bawdy lines? Fenris, how could you? I work so hard to think of things that will make you lov-" Fenris stops Hawke's mouth with his own, curling one arm around the back of Hawke's neck to pull him closer. They kissed languidly, Hawke's hands reaching down to wrap around Fenris' middle, disregarding how the sleeves of his shirt dipped in the water. When they parted to breathe, Hawke nosed his way along Fenris' jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses to the lines of lyrium painting his throat. Fenris' hands tighten in Hawke's hair as the human leans all the way over the tub, sucking a large mark into the hollow of his collarbone as Fenris groans quietly in his ear. 

"Hawke," he begins, a breathless warning, "lean over any more and you'll be face down in the water." Hawke breathes out his laugh over the planes of Fenris' chest, inching closer. 

"Guess I'll have to fix that, then." Fenris means to question the man, especially when he breaks contact entirely, but changes his mind as he watches Hawke discard his pants and smallclothes, yanking his soaking wet shirt over his head. Gingerly, he climbs into the water between Fenris' long legs, placing his hands on either side of the elf's head as he leans back in to bite down on his lower lip. They're crushed together in the bathtub and yet Fenris finds himself only wanting to be closer. 

"Is this alright?" Hawke asks in that low voice he only uses with Fenris, mouth barely above the water as he drags his tongue along another swirl of lyrium. Fenris laughs, voice rough and thick already with want. He knows Hawke can hear it too, judging by the lewd sort of smile on his face. 

"Are you expecting me to say no?" 

"I was hoping you'd say it's not enough, that you'd like me to be on you." Hawke's shameless nature is stupidly charming, and Fenris can't help the answering smirk he makes. 

"Well, it isn't enough," the elf agrees, making Hawke clip a pleased groan at the response. "I suppose I'd like you to be on me." 

"I can make that happen," Hawke straddles him then, bringing their lips back together in a heavy, much more insistent kiss. He slips his tongue along Fenris' lips until he parts them, making them both sigh pleasantly at the contact. Fenris' arms dip beneath the water to run along Hawke's trim hips, then around to his backside, squeezing and pressing the man closer, until the tip of his quickly growing erection brushes the elf's stomach. Hawke makes a surprised noise into Fenris' mouth and he swallows it hungrily, nails biting into skin as he tugs Hawke's hips flush against him. 

Hawke breaks their kiss and peers down between them, shuddering when one of Fenris' hands wraps around his cock and pumps, twisting at the head. 

"H-hey," he pants, forehead pressed to Fenris' as he ruts into the elf's palm. "This was supposed to be about you." 

"I'm having a good time," Fenris replies, tilting his head to kiss the corner of Hawke's mouth, then moves down along the man's collar, leaving bites in his wake and relishing the way Hawke's breath catches every time. When he takes one of Hawke's nipples between his lips he feels Hawke twitch in his hand and decides that this is his favorite; when Hawke is loud and spread out before him, thrusting into his hand with abandon. 

"I know, I am too, but-" Fenris bites down on the same nipple and Hawke moans. "-but let me touch you." With a nod, Fenris lets him go and Hawke sinks down farther in the water, wrapping one hand around both of their cocks, swiping his thumb over the slit and making Fenris bite back a sharp groan. This of course spurs Hawke on, speeding his hand up until they're both close, the elf's hands tight on Hawke's thighs, holding hard enough to bruise. 

"I've been wanting to do this for awhile," Hawke laughs, surprisingly able to still form a coherent sentence. "To fuck you in the bath. You look so gorgeous when you're wet." Fenris chokes; he hates how easily he's affected by Hawke's dirty talk. It's ridiculous, Hawke has a dirty mouth all the time, but there's something unbearable about how he says those things when they're alone, licking his lips and looking him right in the eyes. Fenris has always been too proud to admit how Hawke gets under his skin, even though he knows their entire gang of friends know it too. He tries not to add fuel to Varric's metaphorical friend fiction fire, so he doesn't mention it, especially if Isabela's around. 

Fenris mutters a few curses in Arcanum, too low for Hawke to hear or understand as he wraps his hand around Hawke's, now stroking them both as well. It's only a few more quick, rough strokes before Hawke comes with a barely contained shout, collapsing forwards as Fenris follows, slamming his head back into the hard edge of the bath when Hawke flops on top of him. Hawke bonelessly tries to scramble off the other man and inspect his head. 

"Maker, Fenris, that sounded like it hurt," he's concerned, Fenris notes, but he's laughing too. 

"I'm fine, you idiot," he mumbles as Hawke turns his head to the side and runs fingers back through his hair. He's sure to have a headache, but nothing worth worrying about. "Maybe next time you could fall the other way." 

"Next time, yes," Hawke grins, pressing a kiss to the side of Fenris' head before pulling back and beginning to wash himself with the soap. "Maybe before next time I can have a larger bath put in." Fenris watches Hawke lather up his hair into a big soapy mess, then dunk his head under. He can't help the fond smile that curls his lips as Hawke scrubs his face, then his arms and legs. He thinks about asking if this was Hawke's plan from the moment they got dirty; to keep Fenris from bathing until they returned to the estate instead of just a quick dip in the ocean, or more water dumped over his head from a well. But he supposes he already knows the answer. 

"I'd like that."

**Author's Note:**

> For em. 
> 
> I just finished this game and this is so goofy and self-indulgent but I don't care!!! Also not beta'd; let me know if there are glaring mistakes.


End file.
